


Days

by Thorinsmut



Series: Free Orcs AU [10]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: And love, Complete, Family, M/M, One Shot, and home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:45:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1497160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorinsmut/pseuds/Thorinsmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was the day Dwalin woke up, and wanted to go <i>home</i>.<br/>There was the day Nori realized they were growing <i>old</i>.</p><p>Follows 'who we are'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days

**Author's Note:**

> There should be mouseover translations for your reading pleasure.

There was the day Dwalin woke up, and wanted to go _home_.

It didn’t matter that he kept south to avoid the winters, or that he carried a thicker bedroll these days. He woke up lying on the ground on the surface, and his bones ached, and he wanted to be in a soft bed under stone. He wanted to go _home_ , and not wander any more.

Dwalin rolled over and wrapped himself tight around the Dwarf he loved, buried his face in the softest graying hair, and said nothing.

He dreaded the day he woke up and wanted to be _home_ more than he wanted _Nori_.

There had to be something he could _do,_ even if Balin hadn’t been able to find anything to use to get Nori’s sentence overturned, and Thorin would not issue a pardon.

There had to be _something_.

 

There was the day Nori looked up from massaging the stiffness out of his knuckles to see Dwalin, shirtless in the morning light, grumbling as he stretched his shoulders to ease the stiffness enough to go through his morning axe forms.

And Nori realized they were getting _old_.

What was an old thief but a _dead_ thief? He couldn’t _retire_. Sure, he’d made himself caches across half of middle earth with enough to live on comfortably for a century at _least_ , but he lived his life half a step ahead of those who’d do him harm.

There was no place that would welcome him settling down – and he wasn’t sure he knew how to settle down anymore, if he’d ever known in the first place.

He was a thief, and thief who slowed down was a thief who died, no matter how good he’d once been. Nori looked back down at his achy fingers and resolved to go see that healer he’d been avoiding talking to. They said ze had a salve that did wonders for aches and pains.

 

There was the day Dwalin kissed Nori goodbye.

He wasn’t getting any younger. He couldn’t wait for the next King after Thorin and hope _they_ would issue a pardon.

Dwalin held Nori’s face between both his hands and kissed him long and deep.

“I love you.” he said, and Nori wrinkled his nose but didn’t argue.

 

There was the day Dwalin leaned against the ragged stone outcrop. It was off the main roads, far enough south for mild winters, and not particularly _in_ anybody’s kingdom.

“She’s no Erebor.” Dwalin said, nodding toward the glorified hill he’d chosen, “but can you make her _sing_?”

The Dwarves he’d lead here swarmed around – calling back and forth to each other in technical babble about the stone that Dwalin didn’t particularly understand, but _sounded_ optimistic.

 

There was the day Nori wondered where Dwalin was. They met and parted often enough, but Dwalin didn’t tend to wander so far from him anymore.

It had been a long time since Nori’d had to hunt him down.

Nori turned down the job he was considering – let someone else have it, he’d rather not do it without Dwalin to watch his back – and went in search of his favorite Dwarf.

 

There was the day Nori came to Dwalin – preceded by months of searching and then days of observing.

Dwalin was guarding something, a prospecting mission or mine of some sort, it had been kept very quiet. It was unusual behavior for Dwalin. He normally did not attach himself to things that stayed still. Nori watched from a distance – the jeweler’s glass he used to inspect goods was built such that with a quick alteration it doubled as a spyglass.

Dwarves swarmed the low ridge, and some Orcs too, both guards with Wargs and miners. A rich prize this ridge must be to have been kept so quiet – and Nori felt a small pang of regret that Dwalin was guarding it.

The reason he _was_ became clear when Nori recognized young Gimli – Dwalin’s cousin’s son. Gloin didn’t seem to be anywhere, but maybe Gimli was branching off with his father’s business and wanted the best of guards for his first venture.

Nori watched a few days, then slipped past the guards on duty and went to Dwalin.

“Nori!” Dwalin shouted in greeting, a grin splitting his grizzled face as he grabbed Nori and kissed him.

Dwalin didn’t greet Nori like this, not when he was working – not since Gundabad – but his big hands were grabbing all over the back of Nori, pulling him in close to press their bodies together in the _best_ way and Nori melted instead of protesting.

It had been _too long_ since he’d seen Dwalin, but their bodies still knew each other. Nori pressed himself tight against the solid strength of Dwalin’s body and felt parts of himself wound tight with tension relax. Dwalin would keep him safe – so long as he didn’t harm those he was working for.

Dwalin’s eyes were soft when he drew back.

“I knew you’d find me.” he said, pulling Nori in for just _one_ more heated kiss before he turned to look at the audience they’d begun to gather with a small laugh.

“There’s people you should meet.” He said, wrapping his arms around Nori in a hug from behind as he gestured to Dwarves. “You know Gimli, and that’s Burin, my brother’s son, he’s alright even if he’s going to be a Lord. And these two troublemakers…”

Dwalin pointed out a pair of young Dwarves who were clinging to each other and practically vibrating in their boots. They were handsome young things - bronze caramel with mixed blood from the east, if Nori had to guess, their thick dark hair ornately braided. Siblings, obviously.

“Heri and Nori, the children of…”

…Of Viri, her two eldest. They had her _smile_.

Family.

They sent letters to him, and he sent letters to them, but he’d never thought he’d _meet_ them. He was not… Nori was not _ready_ for this. He wasn’t the bright-glittering trickster of the stories they’d heard. His edges were too sharp and his crimes too heavy for _family_.

Nori might have run on pure surprised instinct if Dwalin’s arms weren’t holding him, and he might have stabbed Dwalin to be let go if his arms didn’t feel so much like safety.

“Amad says we have to pull your braid for her.” Heri said, breaking the silence.

“But Dwalin says you’ll cut our fingers off if we touch it.” Nori – _young_ Nori – added.

“…you should listen to Dwalin.” Nori said, and his voice almost sounded normal as he shrank against the bigger Dwarf. Family. They were _family_ and he didn’t want to hurt them, but he _might_ react on instinct if they touched him unexpectedly. Especially if they went for his hair.

Why… why were they _here_?

“What’s going on, here?” Nori asked. There was no reason for Heri and young Nori, or Gimli and Burin, to be at some mine out in the wilds. The old warrior was still smiling when Nori looked up at him.

“Let me show you.” he said.

 

There was the day Dwalin showed Nori what they’d been carving.

“Welcome,” he said, ushering him through the rough-carved gates, “To _Ghar-bayur_!”

“Also known as _Fil-dhûrz_!” Heri volunteered, and Nori turned from stroking a wall to correct their pronunciation of the Orcish name. Both his sister’s children were awestruck to be in his presence, but restraining themselves. Dwalin had told them, over and over, that Nori was both skittish and dangerous, and it seemed to have stuck.

“It’s grown, from what it was going to be…” Dwalin said. “She’ll never be a kingdom, but…”

“A new settlement.” Nori breathed, and Dwalin led him on.

There were spiral halls, and natural caverns that glittered when exposed with skylights. There were brilliant murals carved and painted for the sheer joy of beauty in the Orcs’ free time. There were small mines of copper and jewels of lesser value – what had pushed this to a settlement rather than just the single home he’d envisioned.

Everything was rough and new, but it was growing, and the space held _promise_.

There were a few homes, family halls beginning to be carved into claims on the stone.

There was depth, and weight, and the songs of the stone coaxed out with patient hammer blows, and Dwalin led Nori down and down into the stone.

Nori’s eyes grew wider and wider as they went deeper, though he showed nothing, until he threw Dwalin a look of mute pleading. Dwalin dismissed Heri and young Nori and the other excited youngsters who’d been helping with the tour.

Nori sagged against the wall, natural cavern carved so carefully into harmony, and _breathed_ the stone that held him.

“Just a little further.” Dwalin promised, an arm around Nori to support him as he led him to the final place.

The heart of _Ghar-bayur_ , where the stone sang clearest. The rough beginnings of a comfortable set of apartments, the walls gleaming with copper veins and a broad balcony overlooking _mingalul-zaram_. The gleaming shores of the blue lake were the most unexpected discovery of the place, and Dwalin knew Nori would love it.

Some other time.

Nori had stumbled unerringly to the heart of the heart and sank to the floor in the song of the place.

Dwalin sat beside him, and allowed Nori to pull him over him – so the smaller Dwarf lay cradled, pressed tight between Dwalin and the stone.

She would never be Erebor, but _Ghar-bayur_ 's song was young and sweet and strong for those who could hear it in their bones. Dwalin did not yet spend enough time under the stone that he grew used to it, but for Nori…

Dwalin held him, gently stroked his side as Nori trembled and clung to the stone. Even released from Dori’s promise, Nori _didn’t_ go to the mountains of Dwarves.

“It's like music…” Nori finally whispered, when he had words again.

“Aye.” Dwalin agreed, and when Nori kissed him like he would _die_ if their bodies parted he made love to the Dwarf he loved in the beginning of the home he’d carved for him.

 

There was the day Nori wondered _why_ he was suggesting changes to the design of Dwalin’s house, and why Dwalin was going along with them so easily – but then Heri and young Nori were trying to impress each other by eating Nori’s spicy cooking and Nori was laughing too hard at how they glared at each other, matching one another bite for bite as tears streamed down their cheeks.

And Nori forgot what he’d been wondering, and pointed out some improvements Dwalin’s house _definitely_ needed.

You wouldn’t want a thief less skilled than _Nori_ to break into the place.

 

There was the day Nori found himself casing the jewel mines – the jewel mines that were under _Dwalin’s_ protection.

He packed a bag and was gone within the hour.

He _didn’t_ steal from Dwalin.

 

There was the day Nori returned and Dwalin breathed a sigh of relief to see him safe, and showed him everything that was new in the settlement.

Including the beautifully comfortable bed that rested in their apartments, in the heart of the heart.

Heri and young Nori had been called back to Erebor, but the settlement was quietly lively still. People were bringing their families, now, and the song of the stone was sweeter with each hammer blow.

There was no great wealth, but modest livings to be made in _Ghar-bayur_ – though some were beginning to call the place _Makal-dum_.

The settlement was beautiful, growing more so every day. Dwalin was proud of it, but he did not think it was grand enough to merit being called a _hall_ like the famous halls of his forebearers, but it wasn't worth arguing the point.

He had what he wanted, both Nori and a _home_.

He did not need any more.

 

There was the day Nori looked up from his hands where Dwalin was gently massaging salve into his aching joints and realized he had _settled_. He realized that his family knew to visit him _here_ , in Dwalin’s home. They’d all but Dori, who’s bones were too old for the trip, come to see him. He realized he was not planning his next job – that the only things he’d planned in _months_ were little domestic things around the house and advising the merchants and crafters who were beginning to form a council of Orcs and Dwarves to rule this place. That he never questioned using the food in Dwalin’s pantry that _he_ certainly wasn’t the one paying for, sleeping in his bed, inviting visitors into his home.

There was the day Nori realized all these things, and that he didn’t particularly recall the last time he’d taken another lover and what all this must _look_ like. What it _felt_ like.

There was the day Nori ran as though there were Wargs on his trail.

 

There was the day Nori spit blood and wished he had the _best_ of guards at his back again because Dwalin wouldn’t have _let_ anyone touch him, and with Dwalin at his side no one would have _dared_ try.

Nori snarled an order at the rock-brained young things he’d hired to guard him, and walked away as they settled affairs in fists and threats.

It was just ugly all around.

It had always been an ugly job he worked.

 

There was the day Nori realized _no one_ was chasing him, sitting high up on a bluff, alone. He rubbed and twisted his hands idly in the exercises that kept them limber and remembered the quiet mornings waking up warm and cozy snuggled in Dwalin’s big bed.

He remembered the loose-limbed relaxation of sleeping in a place he trusted to be safe, with a lover he trusted with his life.

He remembered the feel of Dwalin’s hands rubbing salve into his joints, and the warmth of Dwalin’s skin under his own palms as he returned the favor.

He remembered quiet evenings smoking together overlooking the soft waters of the blue lake.

He remembered the music of the stone, and how he _ached_ for it in his bones now that he knew he was missing it and understanding – finally – why they said exile was the cruelest punishment a Dwarf could be given.

There was the day Nori realized no one was chasing him. No one was trying to keep him if he didn’t want to be kept. He ran, and Dwalin would let him go. Always Dwalin let him go when he needed, and welcomed him back when he returned. It had always been easy, with Dwalin, who never got jealous or asked too many prying questions.

 

There was the day Nori returned, with a heavy pack of the contents of a dozen of his richest caches on his back, so he was pulling his own weight and not just living off someone else.

Nori returned to _Makal-dum_ , also called _Fil-dhûrz_ , breathing deep as he stepped through the solid Dwarf-carved gates decorated with brilliant Orc paints.

He walked through the settlement – a small working town, now – following the tug of the stone’s music toward the heart.

He smiled at giggling packs of naked painted Orclings who did not contain _only_ Orclings anymore, unless there were suddenly some very short hairy Orcs among them.

Nori walked the quiet steps to the heart of _Makal-dum_ , tracing his fingertips along the familiar wall threaded with brilliant veins of living copper. He walked up to the broad balcony over the blue lake, where Dwalin was sitting playing the viol that had always sounded like _home_.

The white-haired warrior grinned at him, no less broad and strong for all his years. He set the viol aside and reached for Nori, and Nori came to him, settled easily and comfortably into his lap like he belonged there.

Dwalin’s big arms came around him to hold him close, and Nori held him just as tightly.

“Welcome home.” Dwalin said, and it meant ‘I love you’ in his mouth. He had so many words that meant that, and had given them so freely to Nori all these long years – asking nothing in return.

Nori tangled his fingers in Dwalin’s coarse beard, guided his mouth up for a gentle kiss.

“I love you.” He answered.

**Author's Note:**

> Now with art of Viri and young Nori by Sparkle!  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/83758629001/viri-sister-of-dori-nori-and-ori-and-her-son


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